


Barbershop Quartet

by spj



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Superheroes, Established coldwave, M/M, Mick Rory centric, barbershop au, pre coldwaveflash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9333779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spj/pseuds/spj
Summary: In which Len and Mick do something about Barry's fuckboy haircut (and drop massive hints about doing some other part of the kid).





	

**Author's Note:**

> i got this idea when i was sitting for my like once/five years hair trim.........   
> dedicated to infinity-illusion as literally always bc for some reason she liked it so

When the kid first entered their salon, Mick didn’t even see his hair at first because _wow_ did he have a pretty face – immaculately sculpted eyebrows, clear jewel-green eyes, and a high-voltage nervous smile that could power Zimbabwe on its own if the kid let out just a single peal of laughter. He glanced at Len, and could see by the way Len’s eyebrow twitched slightly that he was thinking the same thing.

Then Mick caught sight of the kid’s hair and immediately wanted to throw up.

Lisa actually almost did, tripping over herself in a desperation she rarely showed in public in an effort to reach the kid as quickly as possible. “Oh my God, who _did_ that to you? Give me their address; I will kill them immediately.”

The kid shrunk back, terror cutting lines into his forehead. “Um, my barber? I’ve had him since I was little, I just – ”

“He gave you a _fuckboy haircut_ ,” Lisa wailed. “That’s a _sin against God_ for destroying that beautiful face of yours.”

“T-Thanks?” the kid stammered.

Mick caught Len’s eye again, and after a moment of silent communication (less sexy than it sounds, just Len raising an eyebrow and Mick inclining his head), Len dropped Sara’s hair – “Hey!” she protested – so he could slide up to the kid, one part out of pity and two out of seduction because _wow_.

“How ‘bout you let us take care of that for you,” Len said smoothly, taking hold of the kid’s shoulders and steering him towards a chair.

“U-Um, I mean, I was just here to get prices for Cisco, I’m not really – ”

“And what better way to ascertain quality than to get a trial.” Len smiled, and really everyone was lucky that Len seemed to find it physically painful to smile often, because Mick’s relatively sure that that smile could bring entire countries to their knees. “On the house.” When the kid opened his mouth like he was about to argue, Len added, “if you like it, we’ll let you pay, how ‘bout that.”

The kid sighed. “Okay,” he agreed, but it was probably because Len’s already sat him down and wrapped a cape around his neck, cutting off any possible escape route.

Len got to work immediately, washing the offending gunk out and dumping a shit ton of shampoo onto the kid’s head, rubbing it in at the roots.

Sara whistled, low and impressed. “Leonard doesn’t bring out his patented Panty-Dropper massage often.”

Mick agreed. He knew from first-hand experience that a scalp-rub from Len was enough to bring any human to a near-boneless state, but even as Len worked his magic the kid remained stiff as a board, hands clawed at his side and back ramrod straight, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. Len’s eyes were starting to narrow in offense.

“Wind down, kid,” Mick offered from next door after a beat of silence.

The kid started, like he wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to him. “I’m not – ”

“You totally are, kid,” Sara said from under Mick’s hands. “It looks really pathetic.”

That seemed to put a bit of spark into the kid’s eyes, and he huffed a little. “Hey, that’s mean! And I’m twenty- _six_.”

“Okay, Twenty-Six,” Len said with some amusement, “I’m Forty-Four, nice to meet you. And stop wiggling, you’re being difficult.”

The kid gaped, and, sensing her opportunity to get acquainted with the new jailbait, Sara jumped in, “The big hunk is forty-six and the hot blonde bombshell – ” Lisa winked “ – is thirty-seven and _taken_ ,” she lamented, but the kid didn’t seem to be listening.

His eyes were wide and pupils slightly dilated as he gasped, “You’re _forty_?”

“Forty-four,” Mick corrected helpfully.

“He ignored the dad joke,” Lisa said, disbelieving. “We gotta keep this kid.”

“Not a kid,” the kid reminded. Then, as an afterthought, added, “And I didn’t ignore the stupid joke, it just seemed less important… than…”

“Leonard’s immortality?” Sara laughed. “Yeah. Him and Mick both.”

“I have looked time in the eye and told it to fuck off,” Len said sagely.

“Len’s a vampire,” Mick clarified.

Sara and Lisa laughed, but the kid didn’t. The teasing seemed to just have made him even more nervous and lost, which is the opposite of what Mick wanted. Well, Mick's not sure what the opposite of feeding the kid and squeezing his cheeks after a hardy threesome was, but he was pretty sure that nervousness was somewhere opposite to that.

Luckily for everyone, Sara was gifted with the social skills of an aardvark. “Oh, yeah?” she said. “If Leonard’s a vampire, then what’re you, a werewolf?”

“A mummy,” Mick said. He wasn’t hairy enough to be a werewolf, and raw steaks give him a conniption.

“Then what’d you stuff yourself with to get ham like that?” Sara demanded. “It’s not fair.”

Mick met the kid's eyes in the mirror, raised an eyebrow with delicacy worthy of Leonard Snart himself and, keeping eye contact, deadpanned, “Herbal remedies and a daily dose of mercury.”

The quip startled a laugh from the kid and yeah, Zimbabwe's all set now for the next hundred years because the kid was finally, finally smiling, and it was big and bright enough to take over for the fucking moon. “Sorry,” the kid said when he realized that everyone was looking at him. “‘S just ironic. ‘Cause in history that's what killed kings…. Sorry.” He looked up at Mick with new, shiny button eyes, and Mick was not going to last the day, honestly.

“You know history,” Len said, surprised.

“A little. Mostly the bad stuff,” the kid said ruefully. “Cisco's boyfriend is obsessed.”

Lisa catcalled from the corner. “Three giant nerds, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g – ”

“Shut up, trainwreck,” Len said easily.

“Make me, jerk,” Lisa stuck her tongue out.

Although Len and Lisa were unlikely to start brawling in _their_ shop, Mick’s heard the start of this fight too many times for his response not to be automatic.

“No cupcakes for both of you,” Mick said.

Like brother, like sister, they both whined.  

“I will go down on you if you give me cupcakes,” Lisa promised fervently.

Mick wrinkled his nose at the image. “Frosty wouldn't like that,” he said, because it was true and it meant he wouldn’t have to think about his sister-in-law going down on anything anymore.

Len was smug, confident in his edge in this battle. “ _I_ will go down on you,” he said, and Mick was slightly swayed, but.

“An artist never compromises their morals,” he said.

Len smirked in the way he did when he’s about to raise the stakes uncomfortably high because the crazy motherfucker plays to _win_. It was the only warning they got before:

“I'll let you _ride_ me,” Len promised, and this is definitely a private conversation now because Lisa has run retching from the room, and without anyone noticing, Sara has already deemed her hair close enough to finished and paid. In a pair of gold earrings that were most definitely stolen, but hey, Hot &Cold Hairdressing is flexible. Mick didn’t care much anyway because Len contnued, “I'll take you burning and after I’ll cool you down with ice; I'll take you apart and then let you take _me_ apart – ”

“Um,” the kid sputtered.

Len’s eyes glinted, and, the crafty son of a bitch, he _totally_ planned this.

Diabolical bastard.

“Oh, sorry,” Len said casually, though his predatory smile betrayed him. “I'm just about finished anyway. Take a look, what do you think?”

Mick was pretty sure the kid would have been willing to say it looked great even if Len had shaved him bald, just to escape, but Len _had_ done a good job. He had cut down on the ridiculous fluffy quiff that had made the kid look like an asshole from the 80s who just got four wheels and was intent on taking every girl in town for a ride, in favor of a more modest fringe, which he had spiked up, where it was efficiently out of the way but styled enough to make it seem like the kid had put in some effort. In other words, the kid looked _edible_.

And Mick knew his way around food.

“Looks-good-how-much-do-I-owe-you,” the kid predictably squeaked.

“Your name and phone number,” Len said immediately, because sometimes, a criminal mastermind has to know when to go in for the kill.

“What?” the kid said.

“We're propositioning you,” Mick clarified. Consent is very important.

“ _What_?” the kid said.

“We don't put out on the first date though, kid, so if you're imagining a one-night stand you have another thing coming,” Len said.

“ _Wha_ – no, never mind,” the kid said. “Iris would tell me to say yes.”

“Iris sounds like a smart lady,” Lisa said from around the door.

“Iris is going to get me killed,” the kid said faintly, but he wrote his name and number down on the back of the receipt Mick offered him anyway.

“Alright… _Barry_ ,” Len said. “We'll meet you at your apartment tomorrow at seven. Mick will bring ingredients.”

“I didn't even tell you where I live!”

Len grinned like a shark. “I know.”

Mick shook his head. Len really had to work on the creepy stalking thing.


End file.
